2 December 2009

Part of Religious Education involves learning the various myths and stories surrounding Christianity. With gentle hints ('An Angel Visits Mary') I hoped to elicit a comic-book style retelling of the Christmas story.

I must admit to being very pleased with the angel's sceptre, wand or kneecapping stick, although her snazzy dress and delirious cry of 'Ta da!!!' are a little over-enthusiastic.

12 November 2009

More 'love'. Sorry. They're like rabbits if you don't keep showing them videos of 'Married... With Children' to scare them off. In all honesty, even that doesn't work - it's pretty idyllic when you compare it to their actual home life.

30 October 2009

Is it real or is it made up? Who can say. I forget where I came across
this; it was just a general google image search for diaries some time
ago.

"Dear Diray, I like lots of guys but Jonathan Taylor Thomas is the
cutetest. First of all I don't like J.T.T. cause he's a movie star.
There are lots other guys in my class who like me, and there are lots
of people I wish I coulb kill, but I'm not."

A slightly disturbing initial entry, there. I like to imagine the
writer in an Annie-from-Misery-like state of depression by the time we
get to the 19th of November:

"Dear Diray, Today is not so good. I haven't done much. The only
thing that will cheer me up is to meet Jonathan Taylor Thomas. His
birthday is september 8."

Let's see... 1995. By my reckoning, young JTT had finished the voice
of Simba in the Lion King and was on to high profile movie star roles
like Tom Sawyer or that kid out of Ally McBeal. You can understand the
endless attraction...

3 October 2009

This one's from 2007 and the god-forsaken hunk of mauled cheap white actually had tuna wedged inbetween its dry and curling flaps.

Look - I can explain this. She's trying to spell 'tuna' with a 'ch' sound at the start, but can't spell 'ch', which is why it comes out as 'coon'. Say 'ch' instead of 'c' and 'nuh' instead of 'n', and you get ch-oo-nuh, which spells tuna. With that in mind, you might well be heartened to know that we finally had her dyslexia properly diagnosed only a few years later.

Yes, years. Unless you work in education, you may well be surprised how long it takes for some of these kids to get the help they need, despite the best efforts of their educators.

12 September 2009

I always feel that, in these situations, honesty is rarely the best policy. Essentially, this says 'I know that you don't like me but I've decided to stalk you for eternity.' Or perhaps that's just my paranoia coming through.

25 July 2009

You know that bit in The BFGwhere Roald Dahldescribes those nasty flesh eating giants? You know how they tend to be surrounded by lots of old human bones, and one or two of them are actually armed with the odd leftover femur? Well, this is what happens when you try to draw such a scene without any forward planning.

22 July 2009

Yes, this is me. It's quite accurate, actually, down to the mysterious
owl-like feather patterns on my torso, and the crowfoot-like spiky
hands. And if that's the sun up in the top-left, I'm not sure what's
going on in the top-right. Notice, too, that I'm smiling. See - I am
clearly perceived to be nice really. At times.

20 June 2009

Rest assured, the sudden appearance of a rogue harmonica in the class was dealt with swiftly and in a manner even the GTC couldn't fail to endorse. I also have a long and involved joke where a girl swallows a harmonica and we all call her Wheezy Anna for the rest of her miserable life, but I forget the punchline, which has something to do with a traditional song. Ah, well...

1 June 2009

30 May 2009

There must be something in the water. If there isn't, I think I'm going to suggest some sort of compulsory anaphrodisiac; perhaps bromide or potassium nitrate. Either that or we could just have 'em all castrated - it works with pigs.

16 May 2009

I'm often alarmed by the sheer quantities of notes I receive* that contain impassioned outpourings of love, as I'm entirely unable to reconcile it with their behaviour in the classroom or at break time. I look round, expecting to see an almost Donovan-esque quality to their dealings with each other, and instead there they are forming two unevenly-matched sides and thrusting great handfuls of freshly-cut grass down their opponents lovely red sweatshirts.

But enough gentle reminiscing: these next five notes form an amusing (but ultimately tragic) tale of a cautionary nature. (Not necessarily a bad thing: perhaps it'll help cut teenage pregnancy in the local bus shelters.)

12 April 2009

9 April 2009

I've decided it must surely contain one small square of toilet tissue, a sterile wipe (perhaps lemon scented) and maybe one of those cardboard things from Female Freedom. Be prepared - don't leave home without your Pee Kit.Despite the dire ending of 'stik not no my hede me and or bit me up with un big stik', the child in question was given a large book of exciting coloured pictures and some pencil crayons to colour with whilst we all tumbled about on the big apparatus. This masochistic need to write sinister threats is only slightly alarming; rest assured I've written it in the Big Red Book Of Madness in the head teacher's office.

24 January 2009

This is the front page of the North Norfolk School Sport Partnership newsletter. It's the latest issue.

Look at that picture of all the children with their hands in the air, screaming for joy at the wide range of exciting sports opportunities open to them. I wonder how many of them are normal healthy children, and how many are the sort of pillock who'd make an obscene gesture just as the photo is being taken?